All In The Game. Barbara Boswell
there was muscular, handsome Jed, twenty-eight, who boasted a résumé including adventure guide, which he proved by excelling in every physical challenge. He spent most of the time in a minimum of clothing, keeping his sculpted body well oiled with the bottle of emollient he’d chosen to bring as his luxury item.
And finally there was Konrad, the oldest of the group at thirty, a former convicted felon who’d arrived on the island sporting a shaved head with a tattoo of a snarling wolf spanning his back. He had other tattoos, on his chest and both arms, all of vicious animals or birds of prey. Konrad spoke in a growl and had never smiled once during the episodes filmed.
His first remark in the first episode—“I paid my debt to society and I want to go straight. If I win, I will. But if I lose, well, I learned plenty in prison to become a world-class burglar. Good skills to fall back on”—had been widely quoted on the Internet discussion boards, drawing both disapproving and admiring responses.
Ty withheld judgment, wondering if Konrad was actually serious. Was the burglary remark a threat? Or was he merely playing to the audience like Rico and Cortnee, though in a very different way?
Everyone, including the crew, agreed that these contestants shared a definite chemistry. Viewers speculated endlessly about the off-camera goings-on based on the contestants’ on-screen behavior.
Had the twins and/or Cortnee slept with Rico and/or Jed? Had Rico and Jed slept together? It was unanimously concluded that no one would get physical with Konrad.
The crew did their own speculating about such matters, Ty sometimes joining in, striving for an air of nonchalance about the whole thing. His name was enough of a secret to keep around here; there was certainly no need to introduce his other secret, which would be even more significant to the Victorious crew.
However, there was one person right here on the island who knew both his secrets.
One word while the cameras rolled—while he made them roll!—and the horrible media circus that had propelled the Howes into the worst kind of fame could start all over again.
And one word about his previous relationship with Shannen Cullen could probably get him fired.
But Shannen didn’t give him away, and Ty began to think that perhaps she didn’t remember him, after all. It was a definite blow, particularly since he’d admitted to himself long ago that he would never forget her. Seeing her again after long years apart only affirmed her visceral imprint on him.
It would be a fitting irony that she’d forgotten him, a Howe’s just desserts, Ty decided wryly. So he came to accept that when Shannen Cullen glared at him, raising that dark eyebrow of hers as he pointed the camera at her, it was nothing personal. Shannen glared at everybody behind the cameras. He wouldn’t delude himself that she was singling out him for any special animosity.
But he couldn’t help singling her out. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her—nor could he keep his camera away from her for long. Luckily, she had a twin sister, which seemed to make the film time equal, since nobody else could tell the twins apart.
Tynan had no trouble differentiating Shannen from Lauren. He knew “his” twin instantly, at first glance every time, whether the sisters were alone or together. There was no way to explain how, he just knew.
Despite his determination to be different from the other members of his family, it seemed that he was as foolish and dysfunctional as any other Howe, Ty mocked himself. How like a Howe to develop an unhealthy fascination with the very person who could wreck the normal, productive life he’d worked so hard to create.
But his unhealthy fascination with Shannen was not new. Worse, it was as urgent and powerful as it had been nine years ago. More so because now she had become the woman he’d thought she was, back when she had been just a girl.
He’d wanted her then, but he wanted her more now.
And he couldn’t have her. Not then and not now.
Being chief cameraman had its perks, one of them being his own private tent in the camp. It was not as large as Bobby Dixon’s or Clark Garrett’s abodes, of course, but definitely more spacious than the tents that the assistant camera crew had to share. The editing team were likewise housed according to their positions, while the production assistants shared the most cramped quarters, befitting their slavelike status.
The crew had knocked off filming early at eight o’clock tonight, on Clark’s orders. By the time Ty returned to his tent from the dinner provided by the catering service, it was almost dark.
The sunsets in the region were nothing less than spectacular, and during his first days on the island, Ty had been dazzled as he filmed them. Now he scarcely glanced at the colorful sky as he called good-night to Reggie and the others.
He’d passed on the invitation to play cards, to monitor the Internet, to watch TV from the satellite dish and all other group activities. He wanted to get to bed early; he was tired and hadn’t been sleeping well.
Too many nights in a row he’d awakened from particularly vivid dreams of Shannen Cullen, dreams that left him frustrated when, technically, he should’ve been replete. It was humiliating to be betrayed by his own body this way. He was thirty-four, not seventeen!
Spending hour after hour filming Shannen, watching her every move yet being unable to approach her, was taking its toll on him, Ty decided grimly. He was on his way to becoming unhinged….
He spied the note on his pillow as soon as he entered his tent. It was written on stationery with the network logo imprinted on the top, and he reached for it, more than a little bemused.
Nobody left notes for others in their tents; that was just too summer camp. Which undoubtedly explained its origins. It had to be one of the crew’s practical jokes, probably hatched by the production assistants, Ty surmised. Despite being run ragged by everyone involved with the production, those kids never seemed to run out of energy. And they were into playing pranks, though until now, the gags were directed at one another. Now it seemed that they’d moved up to the senior ranks, Ty thought wryly.
His eyes widened at the sight of the unmistakably feminine handwriting. Then he read the note….
It was a joke—it had to be!
He thought of his brief conversation with Heidi today about the Cullen twins. Was that the beginning of the setup? How else to explain this note, signed “Shannen,” ordering him to meet her tonight at a very specific location?
Ty couldn’t even summon a laugh at the jest. To him, it wasn’t funny—it was appalling! Had he given himself away? He thought he’d remained impeccably indifferent to Shannen Cullen while filming her, but had some of the staffers seen through him?
He wouldn’t go, of course. The best way to react to such a practical joke was to blow it off.
But what if this note actually was from Shannen?
The renegade thought leaped into his head and took hold. He tried to dislodge it with logic. How would Shannen get hold of network stationery, for starters?
Perversely, he was able to answer what should have been an unanswerable question. If she’d found her way to the crew’s camp—to his tent!—swiping a piece of official stationery would be a piece of cake.
Should he go to the trysting place tonight?
Of course he shouldn’t!
Ty spent the next two hours debating what to do and finally decided that he would go. And he decided, as well, that when he saw one of the PAs—Heidi or Debbie or Adam or Kevin—he would laugh heartily and then accuse whomever, girl or guy, of having a fervid crush on Jed. Or Rico or Cortnee. Or even Konrad. Then he would write the PA in question notes every night, allegedly from the “crush.” He’d let Reggie and the rest of the camera crew in on the joke.
He would make the lives of those bratty production assistants a living hell for daring to notice his attraction—okay, maybe it was closer to an obsession!—with Shannen Cullen.